Remembering
by epiphanies
Summary: Hermione has lost her two best friends. What happens when an unwelcome blonde shows up at her doorstep?


Remembering

By: epiphanies 

This story was written about two years ago. I just altered it a little.  
  


A young brunette woman sat on her porch steps of her home in England.

Remembering.

Remembering everything that had ever happened to her, all the good, bad, and unmentioned.

She was remembering her past.

And the tears.

She remembered that red haired stranger, sitting with the dark haired boy that was so famous.

She remembered the look that the two boys had exchanged when she had started to talk to them in the bossy tone that she had occupied when she was of that age.

That bossy tone seemed to lessen more and more as that year went on, though, seeing as though those boys soon became her best friends and only allies when she got in the occasional spot of trouble.

She remembered the way that they had fought, however many dreadful rows there were, and then making up again, though actually saying sorry was never mentioned or even an option.

She remembered when her dark haired friend received his first brush with death since the time that she had met him.

She remembered when she saw her red haired friend's head being smashed to the floor by the enormous chess figure.

She remembered when she had slapped her blonde enemy across the face.

She remembered when one of the school champions had died.

She remembered everything.

As well as the day Hogwarts was discontinued.

That was the worst day of her life, by far.

And she had had some pretty horrible days.

She had hugged and kissed and cried, everyone knowing that the chance that they would ever see each other again was slim, let alone seeing them alive.

She remembered the last time she had saw her red haired friend.

It was years before, when she had seen him sent off to battle the last battle of his cut-short life.

The day that he and her dark haired friend had disappeared in search of the world's immortal enemy.

Well, that was the last day she had seen them alive.

Now, nearly two years later, they had found the assumed bodies of what remained of Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.

She remembered that last day that she saw them well.

She was so scared, knowing in her stomach that she would never see her two best friends again.  
  


Ron Weasley pulled his friend Hermione Granger into a tight hug, his body convulsing with shakiness.

He knew as well as she did that they would never meet eyes again.

That they would never feel the heart beating of the other against each other's chest.

He knew as well as she did.

That's why he held her so suffocatingly tight.

"Ron," she said quietly, trying not to gasp for air as she returned the hug.

"Hermione..." 

"Good luck."

"Thanks. Same to you."

They pulled away from each other, quite embarrassed. 

Hermione gave her friends a small smile and pulled Harry into a hug.

"You two take care of each other, alright? Write me," she whispered, biting back tears.

"You can count on it, Herm," Harry whispered back.

Hermione could hear his voice break.

He was thinking about his parents again. Cedric again. Sirius again.

Now he had four deaths to avenge.

And he was off to do that very thing.

He was wearing thick black robes and his wand shook in his hand, and was held with whitening knuckled hands.

"So," Hermione said desparately.

"So...see you when we get back?"

"Yes...I suppose so."

"Well..."

"Er...."

"We should get going..."

Hermione let out a cry that she didn't know she had within her.

"Please! Harry! Ron! Oh, please don't go! Don't leave me! What if we never see each other again?" she wailed, falling into both of their arms at once.

"Herm, we'll be back."

"Promise."  
  


  
  


Hermione shook her head in anger, her eyes blinded by tears.

"Promises mean nothing to the dead. And they are. They've just found the very proof. Why I've held on so long to the hope that they were alive somewhere... it was merely a stupid stupor that I've been stuck in, a bubble of my own dreams." she muttered.

Why am I still so stuck on this? 

Maybe because you can feel in your stomach, just like you did that last day, that they are still out there...? a voice told Hermione in her head.

Nonsense, Hermione told it silently, They're dead.

"They're dead." she repeated out loud.

"Who's dead?" a voice spoke up behind her.

Hermione's insides flipped, she felt her stomach churn unpleasantly.

She knew that voice.

She turned her head slowly to see that blonde haired boy, now a man, standing beside her.

But he seemed different, somehow.

Perhaps it was because it was the first time that she had ever not seen a sneer occupy his face.

"Hermione Granger...it has been a long time, hasn't it?" he asked slowly, watching her as though afraid she'd explode all over him in her current emotional state.

She stared at him.

"What do you want? Why are you here?"

Draco Malfoy shrugged, then sat down on the step beside her.

"I got thinking about Hogwarts the other day, and then I remembered you and...people, and I thought I'd pay you a little visit."

He stared right back at her.

She blinked, breaking the gaze.

"You heard, obviously."

"I did."

"So why aren't you jumping for joy?"

"Hermione~"

"Really, Malfoy. Why are you here? Is this supposed to be some kind of joke, because I'm really not in the mood today, as you can very well tell." she glared at him out of the corner of her eye.

He stared down at the steps below him.

"I wanted to apologize."

Hermione was taken aback.

"Excuse me?"

"I wanted to apol~"

"Why?"

"Because...they were your friends, and for the longest time I wanted all of you...well, not certainly dead, but out of my life...and now two of them are, definitely, and I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry that you're left alone to deal with the aftermath of your best friends' death." he said very quickly, staring down at the steps again.

Hermione stared at him.

Was he serious?Was he truly sorry?

Then a thought sprang into her mind.

"What have you been doing for these past years?" she said innocently.

It was then that he looked at her, straight in the eye. Seeing right through her.

"I am not and never did become a death eater, Hermione."

"Well, I'm sorry but I just had to know..."

"Yes. I understand completely. After the way I'd always acted....it would have made pretty good sense, right?"

Hermione nodded.

"But even if I did become one, I would never, and I mean never, kill somebody I knew. Somebody I knew better than I knew myself."

Hermione stared at him.

"And what exactly does this have to do with Harry and Ron?"

Malfoy looked up at her, amazingly, his eyes glinting with unusual warmth.

"I'd spent my entire Hogwarts career watching you three. The trio. You had the friendship, the brains, the bravery, everything that a kid could want. And you had good hearts, and you were placed in the right house. That sorting had was a pile of rubbish, at least it was when it touched my head. It goes back into your family and then just usually lets your history decide your future. I really wanted to be in Gryffindor, with all of you. No matter what I bragged about to everybody else. But, since that didn't happen, I had to make the best of my situation."

"By torturing us?"

"Yes. That way, I was able to stay close to you and watch your every move. Made sure that I could be every ounce as good as you people were."

Hermione stared at him once again.

She sighed.

"Whatever you say. That still doesn't explain what this has to do with me."

"Well, since I'm here, I may as well tell you the truth..." he began, and launched into a story that was very much news to Hermione's ears...  
  


It was the last day of Hogwarts, forever, and a short, silver blonde haired boy stood watching from a corner the show that stood in front of him.

"Oh, Ron! Harry! This is horrible, I can't believe they're doing this! Oh..." a bushy haired girl said to two boys out in the foyer of the ancient school.

"Yeah, no kidding," said the red head miserably.

"Definitely," the dark haired boy shook his head.

"What are we going to do? Where are we going to learn? What is going to happen?" she shrieked, and the boys spent the rest of the time quietly trying to comfort her.

I wish I could comfort her...make her think everything is all right. Hold her until her tears start and stop...

What made him fall so hard for her it was hard for him to know.

All he knew was that he loved her.

And he would probably never see her again in his entire life.

After all, he was supposed to be assuming the role of Death Eater of the family after his father passed, and that day edged nearer and nearer every second.

The only time he would probably see her would be when she would become an Auror and they would battle until the death of one or the other.

But the blonde boy knew that would never happen.

He knew that he would never take his father's place, even after his death.

And he knew that he would never try and hurt her again.

What in the world has she done to me, he wondered.

But he never found out.

He just spent the rest of his life trying to forget.

About her.

About everything.

But it just kept on coming...

And finally, he decided he had to get over her.

And there was only one way to do it.

See her.  
  


"And so, here I am."

Hermione hadn't blinked in the five minutes that he had talked at all.

What was he playing at?

He must have seen the look on her face, and he quickly added, "Please, Hermione. Understand. Take me seriously. I had to get you behind me, that was the only way."

"Really? Why didn't you come sooner?"

Hermione was beginning to see this blonde stranger in a whole new light.

He didn't answer at first.

Finally, he said heavily, "It wasn't real. I knew it wasn't, that's why I knew I couldn't tell you. You wouldn't understand. I couldn't have loved you unless you loved me back, and I knew you never would. That's why I never came."

Hermione stared at him a moment, then surprised herself.

She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips, tears cascading down her cheeks again.  
  


They sat still for a few moments, then Draco raised his hands to her face.

He gently pulled her back.  
  


"Hermione..." he whispered uncertainly.

Hermione stared at him, confused.

Why had she just kissed him?

And why had he pulled away?

He wiped the tears from her cheek gently.

"Hermione...you're upset. Please don't let us do this under these circumstances. It would be setting the both of us up for misery, even more so than you have already suffered lately."

She stared into his ice grey eyes for a moment, thinking about how much they had changed.

They were nothing like the menacing, mocking eyes of the little Slytherin prat whom everyone had hated so much.

They were real. Feeling. Trying to get through to her.

Just as his body had changed, so had his eyes, and so had he.

He was definitely different, she had noticed when she had first looked at him.

No sneer.No mocking eyes or snide remarks.

Just understanding and longing and apologies. If it weren't so sad, it would be laughable.

It frightened her.

She blinked.

"Draco... do you want a cup of tea?"

He smiled a little.

"Sure."

She led him into the house that she now owned.

It was the house that she, Harry and Ron had occupied before they had left.

And it was as obvious as ever.

There was still old, tattered Chudley Cannons posters on the wall, and on the mantle stood the Triwizard Cup, looking foggy and dusty.

Hermione made a mental note to dust and wax it. After all, it was one of the only memories she had left of one of her best friends.

Draco took in the house with sad eyes.

"So...you live her alone now."

Hermione nodded, though it wasn't a question as much as it was a statement.

"Do you still...use magic?"

Hermione shrugged.

"I used to. I don't much now days...it just seems much easier to do things by hand. Besides, all I have to wait on is myself. I don't have to get dinner to a starving family or something," she said, trying to laugh and failed.

Draco nodded understandingly.

"I live alone too, though I never did give up my magic. I'm lazy, what can I say?"

He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

She set the tea on the coffee table and they sat on the black couch.

They sat in silence for a while, then Hermione spoke up.

"I'm glad you came."  
  
Draco smiled halfheartedly at her, then looked at the Triwizard Cup, a look of lost sadness in his eyes again.

"Me too. I know that it's been hard, but if you like, you can talk to me about it. What you're going through, I mean," he hesitated, then she saw a glimmer of that oh-so-familiar-smirk, "Wow, I'm really getting to be a sad sod. I'm sorry about my coming here, coming on so strong. I was hired, when it reopened, as the Hogwarts School Counsellor, you see. I've been getting a lot of teenage angst stories and they're wearing down my edge." he joked.

Hermione wiped away another tear.

She nodded in a silent thanks.  
  
"Do you think...do you think that you would like to stay for a bit? I could whip something up in about an hour...or, better yet, make a magical dinner." Hermione suggested, hoping that he would understand the hidden meaning behind this offering.

His smile told her that he did.

She really, truly smiled for the first real time in years and headed off to the broom cupboard, which held nothing besides a few photographs, an old uniform, and her rather dusty wand.  
  



End file.
